


Tired

by Rocha



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocha/pseuds/Rocha





	Tired

Stiles was tired.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Was it when the Alpha pack was in town, or before that? Had he ever slept?

Was he sleeping now? Stiles thought so, it was dark. Not the kind of dark that swallowed you up and kept you trapped, choking you. It was the pleasant kind, soft, quiet. Draping over Stiles like a warm blanket.

It wasn’t a nightmare; it was comfortable nice so much nicer then he felt in week, month’s maybe years, Stiles wanted to stay here forever.  
Except he couldn’t, at least something told him he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why, he just had this feeling inside him, this feeling of urgency. That he should be doing something to ‘wake up Stiles, wake up’.

But whenever he tries there’s always a whisper to lull him back to the darkness.  
Stiles could never understand what the voice said, it was always too quiet to decipher any key syllables but it always remained soothing and familiar. It reminded Stiles of his mother.

'Wake up stiles' A voice said, this one clearer and louder than anything he has ever heard. 'Wake up stiles'

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should listen. The nice voice was talking again. He wanted to listen and see if maybe this time he’ll be able to understand what she’s saying.

He just needs it to be quiet-

'Wake up Stiles!' The voice repeated again. It sounded urgent, strained, as if it had been screaming for hours.

'Wake up Stiles, Wake up Stiles! WAKE UP STILES! The voice screamed drowning out the nice voice.

It continued on without stopping.

Stiles wanted to yell, wanted to yell at the voice to ‘shut up’ to let him sleep, to listen to the nice voice that sounded so much like his mother. He found he couldn’t, when he opened his mouth silence followed. He tried again with the same effect.  
The comforting darkness that enveloped Stiles started to disappear slowly. As bright white dots started appear at the edge of his vision.  
Should he wake up?

That annoying voice certainly thought so.  
Should he just give in?

At that thought the nice voice came back still unintelligible but a lot louder and sounded a lot closer to his ear. Even so with the loud booming voice it was hard to hear.

'Th…….. … do….. …..t…s' The nice voice soothed. 'th……'

“WAKE UP STILES!’ The voice boomed again, with it a bright light blinded Stiles vision.

He blinked, as he took in his surroundings. He was in a basement? Stiles wasn’t sure but it was cold, alone and he wasn’t sure how he got there. Maybe he was investigating something with Scott, so he must be here somewhere. Stiles started to feel for his cellphone but came up empty.

Frowning he stood up and wandered his surroundings and came to the quick conclusion that, there were no windows, and there was no door.  
‘This can’t be real.’ Stiles started to shake his head the first tendrils of fear started to grip his heart.

‘I’m dreaming.’ He said quietly, he looked at his hands and started to count his fingers. He choked down a sob as he counted all ten fingers present.  
‘This can’t be real, this can’t be real.’ Stiles whispered as he tore through the room, the room empty and quiet. He threw empty canisters at the wall, empty bottles, and broken tools.

None left a single dent.

Stiles screamed throwing himself against the wall in frustration.

It didn’t hurt. 

Stiles curled into himself in defeat.

The whispers returned, too quiet for Stiles to notice, but slowly they started to rise in volume.

'T……e.. sh…….. p…..t…s. 'th…….’

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows as he tried listening.

'…h…e.. s……ow.. p…..t…s……..’it repeated the words started to get clearer. ‘the ……dow pro……s. the sh..dow .. pr..tects…..’

Stiles felt the cold run through his spine as he looked up as he saw a mirror as if it was always standing in the middle of the room. His reflection smiled and mouthed

‘the shadow protects.’


End file.
